


Star Wars Episode II: Belated Media Rewrite

by Katerinaki



Series: Star Wars Belated Media Rewrite [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belated Media put the idea out, F/M, Gen, I'm just writing it my way, What if Star Wars Was Good?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerinaki/pseuds/Katerinaki
Summary: There is unrest in the Galactic Republic. Thousands of systems have declared their desire to break from the Republic, forming a separatist movement.The peace between the two opposing factions is fragile and the Jedi Knights find themselves as mediators, trying to prevent all-out war.The Galactic Senate, fearing the strength of the Separatists, have commissioned an Army of the Republic to assist the overwhelmed Jedi…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In 2012, the Youtube user, Belated Media, put up a video with the basic concept that he was a story producer when George Lucas was writing the Star Wars Prequels and that he reworked when George had in a way that was more streamline, maintained the integrity of the Original Trilogy, and left fewer plot holes. I saw this video a few years ago and loved the concept, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. What WOULD a Star Wars like that look like? Specifically? Since I'm not a director, I decided I would attempt to novelize what the Star Wars Prequels COULD HAVE BEEN, based on the ideas presented by Belated Media. The original video is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgICnbC2-_Y and while I do deviate a bit from some of the concepts presented (he goes on to do Episode 2 and 3 in later videos and makes a few tweaks that aren't mentioned in the first video) much of the ideas and concepts presented belong originally to him. Thank you to Belated Media for providing the idea, and thank you to the readers for taking the time to explore these concepts with me. Cheers,  
> -Katerinaki

Opening Crawl

There is unrest in the Galactic Republic. Thousands of systems have declared their desire to break from the Republic, forming a separatist movement.

The peace between the two opposing factions is fragile and the Jedi Knights find themselves as mediators, trying to prevent all-out war.

The Galactic Senate, fearing the strength of the Separatists, have commissioned an Army of the Republic to assist the overwhelmed Jedi…

 

Part 1:

The High Council of the Jedi Order consist only of the strongest and wisest of Jedi Masters. It is the High Council that makes decisions in how the Order will respond to any situation in any part of the galaxy, always seeking to maintain a balance between the Jedi Code and the ever elusive Will of the Force.

For the elected leader of the Jedi High Council, Master Mace Windu, lately that balance has become muddled and, like the Galactic Senate, the High Council has become torn between what a Jedi’s duty should be, and whether or not they should continue to serve at the whim of the Senate.

“The Jedi must remain separate,” Saesee Tiin insisted. “The Will of the Force must always take precedence over the politics of the day.”

“Is our role not to maintain peace?” Master Ti suggested. “The Republic—“

“Is a government like all the others,” Master Tiin growled. “And an ineffectual one at that! The greed of the senators has led us to the brink of civil war. And what then, when war breaks out? The Jedi are not military. We are not soldiers.”

Master Windu suppressed a sigh as they once more came back around to the same questions that began their discussion. Since the Senate began to speak of an army, it had seemed as if the Jedi would be the natural leaders of that military, much to the Jedi’s disagreement. While they were potentially the longest, established fighting force, the Jedi had not raised an army since the Sith Wars and would not do so again, if Mace Windu had anything to say about it.

An alert signaled on his control panel, a request for entry to the chamber.

“Masters,” he called, his voice ringing over the chamber. The arguing council members quieted immediately at the request of the senior master.

“Chancellor Palpatine has arrived.”

There was slight shuffling and a few mutters as the gathered masters prepared to receive the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. All were familiar with the man himself in a way most politicians were not. Sheev Palpatine had been the Amassador to the Jedi Order for many years, before his appointment as Chancellor. He had maintained a close relationship with the Jedi after his election. “Meddling”, in the opinions of a few Masters.

Chancellor Palpatine swept into the council chamber confidently. He inclined his head in deference to Master Windu before addressing the assembled council.

“Masters, I wanted to bring you the great news in person. The Senate has authorized the creation of an Army of the Republic, to aid you in your unwavering efforts to maintain peace and security in these troubled times.”

If the council chamber were the Galactic Senate floor, it would’ve erupted. As it was, Master Windu could feel the Masters’ displeasure and distrust surging as a wave of silent dissent through the Force. It was his responsibility to speak for the mind of the Council.

“With all due respect, Chancellor, an army would _hinder_ the efforts of the Jedi. We are keepers of the peace, not soldiers.”

“The Jedi Order has stood for thousands of years as a guard against the darkness in our galaxy. And your efforts have not been in vain, nor have they gone unnoticed.”

“And what purpose would this army serve?” Master Ti asked. “We go to negotiate, to sue for the continued peace. Not to fight.”

Palpatine sighed heavily. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly from his bearing and his face revealed just a brief glimpse of the stress he was no doubt under. “My friends, may I speak frankly to you? The citizens of the Republic are scared. More and more systems are joining the Separatist movement and with the recent string of assassinations, they need a way to feel safe again. They love you, and the sacrifices you make for them, but your ranks are limited. An army would allow you to focus your attentions where they would be most useful, and provide the citizens of the Republic with a tangible reassurance of their continued security. Surely you can’t be opposed to that.”

In that moment, the Council’s oldest member spoke at last. Master Yoda had lived for hundreds of years. He was the Council’s longest sitting member, but he often chose to remain away from council matters, training the new initiates of the Jedi Order. When he spoke, all listened.

“If force you offer, force you will receive. War is the purpose of an army. War is what you will have.”

Many of the masters nodded agreement with the small, green master. But Chancellor Palpatine regarded him shrewdly before sighing heavily and hanging his head.

“I am truly sorry, my friends,” Palpatine said, “but the Senate is decided. Preparations are already underway. I will, of course, keep you apprised of the progress. May the Force be with you.”

Palpatine bowed once more and left. As the doors shut behind him, a number of the masters expressed their displeasure.

“It is as I feared,” Master Tiin declared. “Now we will be generals.”

“Then trust we must, that resolved quickly this situation will be,” Master Yoda replied. “Requested our aid, the House of Organa has. A delegation, they request, to secure peace talks on Alderaan.”

Master Windu nodded. “Kenobi has returned with his apprentice. If I recall, he is familiar with House Organa and has been party to the negotiations thus far.”

Master Yoda nodded. “Send them, we will, Peace, they _must_ find.”

 

The next day, in the hangar of 500 Republica, preparations were underway to bring the Senators and representatives of the Galactic Republic to Alderaan. Among the crews and politicians walked a small group of Jedi, led by the Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He cut a poised, confident figure as he looked out over the hangar. For Obi-Wan, the prospect of this mission brought excitement and hope to his heart. Hope that their efforts would be rewarded with if not the end of the conflict, then at least the first steps of diplomacy. And he would be lying if he said the prospect of seeing Padmé Organa again did not excite and intrigue him. He wondered how the years will have changed her. Padmé had fought a hard battle to become the Senator of Alderaan. Shortly after her parents’ deaths, the power vacuum had almost created a rift that would’ve brought Alderaan into its own civil war. Only Padmé’s unflagging diplomacy and her brother Bail’s selflessness had preserved Alderaan.

“Obi-Wan? Is everything alright?”

Obi-Wan drew away from his thoughts, smiling at his anxious padawan learner.

“Of course, Anakin. Is everything prepared?”

“Yes,” Anakin replied, though his teacher knew him well enough by now to recognize his discomfort.

The beginning of their training partnership had been rocky at best. Obi-Wan could admit now, he hadn’t been the most patient or understanding master. Growing up as a slave meant that Anakin lacked much of the self-assurance and confidence of the average Jedi initiate. It did not help that Obi-Wan felt guilt for his own master’s death and resentment for being forced to train Anakin, to become a teacher before he’d really finished being a student.

But, the two of them had fought and trained and grown together, Obi-Wan into a respected Jedi Knight and Anakin into a strong Jedi apprentice. Obi-Wan would be the first to admit, his apprentice’s connection to the Force was far stronger than his own, or even than most Jedi Obi-Wan had known. It was ridiculous that Anakin still felt uncertainty about his own skills, but Obi-Wan knew that was the source of his anxiety.

Obi-Wan turned, dismissing the other Jedi to their ships before turning back to his apprentice.

“What is wrong?” he asked patiently.

As a testament to their bond, Anakin did not hesitate to spill everything on his mind.

“What if I can’t do this? What if my mistake leads to our failure? I know I haven’t been training very long and the Temple masters say I’m ready, but I look at you and the other Jedi…”

“I’ve had a little more practice than you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan joked.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin groaned.

“You will be fine,” Obi-Wan assured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Anakin had grown significantly in the ten years they’d been together as a training pair, surpassing Obi-Wan’s modest height years ago. Finally receiving proper nutrition and training each day, Anakin had filled out into a tall, strong young man. But despite his superior height, Anakin looked up to Obi-Wan as the older brother and mentor he’d never had before. And for Obi-Wan, Anakin was his student, and best friend.

“Your saber skills are more than adequate for a _peace negotiation_. I will need you to focus on the task at hand. We can come back and drill lightsaber techniques until you fall over _after_ we’ve achieved galactic peace. Does that satisfy you?”

Anakin grinned, nodding. “Who says _I’m_ the one that will fall over? I saw you panting after our last spar, old man!”

“Old man?” Obi-Wan feinted like he was going to tackle Anakin, the two of them laughing, when they were suddenly interrupted by a pilot shouting.

“Son of a womp rat! Holly kriff, I can’t believe it!”

The two of them turned, expecting trouble as a plump pilot jogged across the hangar towards them.

“I can’t believe it!” the pilot exclaimed again as he approached Anakin. “Do you know who you are? Oh man, Beru is _not_ going to believe this!”

“Um, sorry, do I know you?” Anakin asked hesitantly.

“No way, but you’re Anakin! I watched your race at Boonta Eve! There’s no _way_ you should’ve won, but that was some of the best piloting I’ve ever seen! That’s why I went to flight school, because of you. Wow, you’re taller than I expected.”

“And you are?” Obi-Wan prompted. He was standing back, arms crossed and watching the pilot’s enthusiasm, and Anakin’s discomfort, with growing amusement.

“Oh sorry! Jabba, mom said I had manners like a bantha. I’m Owen Lars.”

“Nice to meet you,” Anakin replied, shaking Owen’s offered hand.

“Oh it’s so wizard to meet you too! I can’t believe—wait are you flying with the delegation?”

“Yes, he is,” Obi-Wan replied, smirking.

“That’s so wizard! I’m flying the transport. Not as awesome as the fighter they’re probably putting you in, but man this is so cool! I can’t believe I get to fly with _The_ Anakin!”

“It’s really a dream come true,” Obi-Wan agreed dryly as Anakin’s face became impossibly redder.

A signal echoed through the hangar announcing the last boarding call and blessedly, Owen stopped drooling over Anakin a moment.

“I guess I should go and do final checks on the ship,” Owen said, visibly disappointed. “But hey, when we land maybe we can get a drink or something. See you on Alderaan.”

Owen jogged off leaving a very embarrassed Anakin feeling hugely relieved. He turned to Obi-Wan and saw his teacher’s amused grin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what just happened.”

“Oh, I think it’s obvious. You have a fan, _The_ Anakin.”

“Not you too,” Anakin groaned.

“What? I’m just elated to be flying with the greatest podracer in history! It’s good to know I’ll have such a legend off my wing.”

“ _Obi-Wan_!” Anakin protested as the two of them climbed into their fighters.

“Please, let me know if I get in the way. Surely my own modest skills can’t possibly keep up with _The_ Anakin.”

“When we land, I’m kicking your butt,” Anakin retorted as his cockpit shield lowered.

“As you wish, Oh Great Anakin.”

The convoy left Coruscant and made the jump to hyperspace without incident. Obi-Wan settled back into his cockpit, content to get a bit of light meditation in while there was some time. He needed to be centered and focused if they were to ensure the success of these peace talks. But lately, Obi-Wan’s sleep had been disrupted by strange dreams. He saw a dark figure, moving among the crowd of the Senate, standing behind the backs of the Jedi Council. He saw a dark world, flowing with rivers of red, the air choked with noxious fumes. And he saw _him_. The Sith with the horns and red and black tattoos mocked him, always just beyond Obi-Wan’s reach. He hissed and jeered at Obi-Wan, taunting him with his helplessness as the Sith drove his lightsaber through Qui-Gon or Padmé or Anakin, over and over again.

Obi-Wan hadn’t had dreams like this since the year after his Master’s death. He’d seen a Temple mindhealer who had helped him come to terms with his Master’s death. Obi-Wan knew he probably should’ve gone to see the healer again the moment the dreams came to him again, but he never seemed to find the time. Anakin’s training and their various missions kept them on the move, away from the Temple. They’d only just returned from Ansion when the Council set them on these peace talks.

Obi-Wan tried to settle into meditation and was just beginning to immerse himself into the Force when a warning surged through his senses and his starfighter was suddenly jerked out of hyperspace.

It was a gravity well, Obi-Wan realized as he looked around and saw the other convoy ships stopped or falling out of hyperspace as well. Anakin appeared just off his wing.

“Master, what—“

There shouldn’t have been a gravity well here. The route from Coruscant to Alderaan was well-mapped and well-travelled.

“Shields up!” Obi-Wan ordered as the squadron of unknown starfighters suddenly appeared in space, cannons blazing.

“Evasive action! Fighters protect the transports!” Obi-Wan barked over the comms.

“It’s the Separatists!” one of the transport pilots shouted over the comm. Obi-Wan caught sight of the six-spoked hexagon on the wing of the nearest fighter. That was the rallying symbol of the Separatists.

“Focus on protecting the transports. Pilots, get your ships back into hyperspace!”

Obi-Wan dived, avoiding a barrage of cannon fire, Anakin hot on his tail. They took up position by Owen’s transport. Owen, for his part, seemed to be having the time of his life dodging the attacking fighters in the clunky transport ship.

“Anakin, I’m going to bank, you got this guy?” Owen called. He banked and a fighter flew over the transport’s port wing, right into Anakin’s cannons.

“Got him!” Anakin declared. “Uh-oh, I got one on my tail.”

An enemy fighter was trying to lock onto Anakin as he dodged and rolled.

“I have him,” Obi-Wan assured him, bringing his own ship to bear.

“Go left!” Owen called and Anakin banked hard, giving Obi-Wan a clear shot.

“Thanks, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said as they fell back into position around Owen’s transport. The fight was about over as the other starfighter escorts dealt with the attackers around their transports. The remaining decided to cut their losses and jumped away.

“Everyone report in,” Obi-Wan commanded.

The pilots went through one-by-one, giving status updates. There was minor damage to one of the transports that had been nearest to the point of attack, but they hadn’t lost anyone.

“Stay in formation, we’re almost there,” Obi-Wan said.

They cleared the gravity well and at last the convoy was back at lightspeed. Except now Obi-Wan was not so confident these talks would succeed. There had been rumors of assassination attempts, backed by the Separatist movement, but no open conflict. Until now. But what could the Separatists gain by attacking the convoy? They did not have the strength for open war against the Republic. Diplomacy was in their best interests too.

Before long, Obi-Wan found himself once more above the blue and green planet of Alderaan. He hadn’t been back even once in the ten years since the Battle for Aldera.

“There’s so much _water_ ,” Anakin remarked excitedly through the comm.

“It’s a beautiful planet. You’ll see.” But as they escorted their transport ship into the spaceport at Aldera, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel unease and guilt as he remembered his disastrous last trip.

They landed and were greeted by a delegation from the Noble Houses of Alderaan. As Obi-Wan climbed from the cockpit, he saw the insignia of House Antilles, Panteer, but he was truly searching for the familiar, heart-shaped insignia, trimmed in blue. He needn’t look far as he found House Organa at the center of the delegation and two familiar faces. He hung back, though, doing a quick visual inspection of his ship to make sure there wasn’t any damage as the Senators and representatives were properly greeted and offers of hospitality were exchanged, the usual cordialities of politics.

Anakin joined him, looking around at the advanced spaceport and the rich architecture. He whistled.

“You definitely wouldn’t see anything like this on Tatooine.”

“Alderaan is a very prosperous Core World,” Obi-Wan replied. “It was one of the founders of the Galactic Republic.”

“Is that so? Whoa, who’s _that_?”

Obi-Wan looked up in time to see the two he’d been hoping and dreading to meet again.

“That’s—“

“Obi-Wan!” Senator Padmé Amidala Organa greeted, smiling.

“Your Highnesses,” Obi-Wan replied, bowing respectfully.

And Padmé slapped him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Don’t ‘Your Highness’ me, Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Padmé scolded. “We were in a bar fight _and_ a battle together.”

Obi-Wan looked desperately to Bail for help but the Viceroy and First Chairman of Alderaan simply shrugged, making it clear this was Obi-Wan’s mess and Obi-Wan would have to clean it up.

“So much for diplomacy,” Obi-Wan muttered. Padmé went to swing at him again but Obi-Wan pulled Anakin in front of him.

“Padmé, you remember Anakin?”

Padmé stopped short as she looked up at the young man who towered over her.

“Anakin? My goodness, you’ve grown!”

“You’ve grown shorter,” Anakin commented.

“Anakin, I’m Bail Organa,” Bail extended his hand in greeting. “We never met, but my sister told me about you.”

Padmé blushed and looked away and suddenly Obi-Wan was very interested in _what_ Padmé had told Bail.

“Shall we go to the palace?” Bail suggested, gesturing towards a waiting shuttle.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan, Padmé, and Anakin said at once.

“There is a banquet tonight, in welcome,” Bail explained as they boarded the shuttle. “Tomorrow the Separatist delegation arrives.”

“And where does Alderaan stand in this?” Obi-Wan asked as the shuttle doors closed and they sped off towards the palace, nestled at the base of the mountains that framed Aldera.

“With the Republic,” Padmé replied.

“For now,” Bail added, to Obi-Wan’s surprise.

“For now?” Anakin repeated.

Padmé shot a warning look at her brother.

“Bail is…dissatisfied with the Senate and its response to our crisis a number of years ago. He is concerned it no longer possesses the ability to act in the interests of the worlds it represents.”

“Forgive me if I have a longer memory than you,” Bail retorted.

“I remember, but Chancellor Palpatine has done many good things for the Republic. There was a reason the Senate voted to re-elect him.”

“The Separatists are thugs,” Anakin grumbled.

“I beg your pardon?” Bail said.

“Forgive my apprentice,” Obi-Wan replied quickly. “We were ambushed on our way to these talks by a Separatist faction.”

“How can you be sure?” Padmé asked.

“I saw the six-spokes right on their wings,” Anakin said.

Bail sighed. “Their leadership is fractured. It is the only thing preventing them from gaining traction. If they could just _unite_ —“

“Let’s save this conversation for the talks tomorrow,” Padmé interrupted. “Tonight we’re just going to relax and enjoy a good meal. We can start this when the other delegation arrives.”

Upon their arrival to the palace, Obi-Wan and Anakin were given quarters in a separate wing with the other Jedi assigned to the talks.

“I figured you’ll have enough of our squabbling during the day that you should be spared it at night,” Padmé explained as she showed them the room.

“ _This_ is ours?” Anakin looked around, wide-eyed. The room was modest by what Obi-Wan knew of Alderaan standards, but still larger and more opulent than anything the Jedi Temple had to offer. Two sleep couches sat on opposite sides and there was a small sitting area at the center. A large window perched over a comm station and desk.

“This will be more than enough, thank you,” Obi-Wan told Padmé.

“The dinner is in a few hours. Please let me know if you need anything.” She smiled and left, the door sliding closed behind her.

“My bunk on Tatooine must’ve looked like a trash heap, if Padmé grew up here.”

Anakin flopped down on one of the sleep couches, admiring as the cushioning conformed to his back.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Obi-Wan warned. “This banquet tonight will be as important as the talks tomorrow.”

“Good thing I brought you, then,” Anakin replied.

 

 

Obi-Wan would’ve preferred to be anywhere else at the moment. Instead, he sat next to Anakin in the grand banquet hall of the Alderaanian royal palace, flanked by Anakin and the Senator from Malastare. Anakin was animatedly talking with the long-necked Quermian on his other side, extolling the food and hospitality of their hosts. Their host herself sat across from Obi-Wan, making polite conversation with her dinner guests on either side, but all the while throwing little smiles Obi-Wan’s way. Obi-Wan could barely do more than take small bites and nod appropriately as the Senator from Malastare went on about the senate committee he was heading.

Ever since they’d landed, Obi-Wan had been feeling a dark mood in the pit of his stomach. Everywhere he looked reminded him of the last time he’d been on Alderaan, when he’d let his master die. The mind healers would say the fault did not lie with Obi-Wan, but with the Sith. However, Obi-Wan knew, if he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted, hadn’t abandoned his master to face the Sith alone in favor of tending to Padmé, then Qui-Gon might’ve been here, sitting on Anakin’s opposite side.

‘ _It’s your fault, and what have you done to fix it?’_

Nothing. Nothing had been seen of Qui-Gon’s killer. Obi-Wan had spent a few years in the beginning, trying to track down the Sith. But he’d vanished, sinking into the shadows of the galaxy and Anakin had been in need of a teacher. So Obi-Wan abandoned his fruitless search in favor of taking up Anakin’s training as was his Master’s dying request. The Sith had been all but forgotten. Until now, when he say enjoying a lavish banquet where his master had fought and died.

“Pardon me, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, standing abruptly. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Hm, it’s likely the nerf. Disgusting creatures. Very lucky I can’t digest their meat,” the Senator replied.

“Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan could feel his concern through their training bond.

“I’m alright,” Obi-Wan replied, sending the reassurance through their bond. “I’m going to retire and rest for the night.”

He made more apologies to the Senator before leaving the hall. He knew, though, that his brush off of Anakin wouldn’t be enough. He sensed Anakin following him and heard the light tap of his boots as he jogged to catch up.

“Obi-Wan, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m alright,” Obi-Wan insisted.

“You’ve been acting strangely since we arrived.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s Padmé, isn’t it? You… _like_ her?”

Obi-Wan was startled by the sudden shift, but he was quick to respond. “A Jedi does not have _attachments_ , Anakin,” he chided.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t attracted to her,” Anakin persisted with a knowing smile.

“Padmé and I have only ever been friends.”

“Do most of your friends hit you when you first greet them? You might want to work on that,” Anakin teased.

But Obi-Wan had no energy for banter. His mind was restless but his body was exhausted.

“Enjoy your evening, Anakin. I’ll see you back in our quarters. Try not to stay up too late. The delegation arrives early tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan turned and left but he didn’t see the concerned look Anakin gave his back.

Behind him, the banquet hall door opened and Owen peeked out, seeing Anakin standing alone.

“Just needed some air from that stuffy lot?” Owen commented. He joined Anakin, leaning on the railing looking out into the central courtyard. The two of them watched the fountain gurgle water.

“It’s a bit different from Tatooine,” Owen said. “Do you miss it?”

“No,” Anakin replied. “At least, not the desert, or the heat. I miss my friend, Kitster.”

“I know what you mean,” Owen agreed. “I don’t miss the farm. Getting out early, trying to fix busted vaporators with old parts. I miss my father, I guess. He’s still back on the farm, trying to make something out of nothing.”

Anakin turned, propping his back up against the rail.

“Did you really go to flight school because of my race?”

“You better believe it! I wanted to be a pod racer, but a few trips down Beggar’s Canyon and I almost smashed myself on the canyon wall. But I figured in space, there’s a lot less stuff to hit.”

Owen laughed and Anakin chuckled as well. “Then you went to Coruscant.”

“I couldn’t _believe_ how many beings there are! And the buildings!”

Anakin nodded, remembering his first time on Coruscant. He’d done nothing but stare for months in the beginning until the towers and the traffic had been just part of the background.

“What are the odds, huh?” Owen said. “A couple of boys from Tatooine, guests in a _palace_.”

“Trying to barter for galactic peace instead of pallies,” Anakin added.

“Oh man, I miss pallies so much!”

The hall began to empty as most of the politicians seemed to be following Bail Organa down to a sitting room where they were undoubtedly serving dessert. The thought of the sweets made Anakin’s mouth water until he caught sight of Padmé emerging from the hall. She spotted them and broke off from the group.

“Anakin, is everything alright with Obi-Wan? He didn’t look well and I saw he left early.”

“He’s fine,” Anakin replied a bit too quickly. “He just went back to…meditate or something…”

“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s very important. I was going to see if you perhaps wanted a tour of the palace.”

“Do we!” Owen replied enthusiastically.

“You don’t need to stay with the Senators?”

But Padmé waved off Anakin’s concern.

“My brother has them well in hand. Let Bail play politics. It’s what he likes.”

“But, if you don’t like politics, why are you a Senator?” Owen asked as the three of them began strolling through the courtyard.

Padmé shrugged. “It was either that or nerf-herder.” She winked mischievously as Anakin as they turned down a corridor.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan sat, legs folded on the floor of his and Anakin’s shared quarters. His eyes were closed as he tried to relax into his meditation, but no matter how he tried, visions of Qui-Gon’s shocked expression as the Sith stabbed him flitted over and over through his mind.

“Enough,” Obi-Wan growled, drawing on the Force to banish the memory. But no sooner did Qui-Gon’s face disappear that another took its place.

This one was different, however. It shifted and morphed, shrouded in flames. Obi-Wan thought he saw the Sith, but then the face morphed and he thought it was Anakin. Then it was Padmé, Qui-Gon, his own face.

“No!”

Obi-Wan jerked out of meditation, banging his knee against the nearby chair. He panted, covered in sweat as he massaged his throbbing knee. This was torture. Being here, on Alderaan, the scene of Obi-Wan’s greatest failure and regret. These talks could not end soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is unrest in the Galactic Republic. Thousands of systems have declared their desire to break from the Republic, forming a separatist movement.  
> The peace between the two opposing factions is fragile and the Jedi Knights find themselves as mediators, trying to prevent all-out war.  
> The Galactic Senate, fearing the strength of the Separatists, have commissioned an Army of the Republic to assist the overwhelmed Jedi…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 2012, the Youtube user, Belated Media, put up a video with the basic concept that he was a story producer when George Lucas was writing the Star Wars Prequels and that he reworked when George had in a way that was more streamline, maintained the integrity of the Original Trilogy, and left fewer plot holes. I saw this video a few years ago and loved the concept, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. What WOULD a Star Wars like that look like? Specifically? Since I'm not a director, I decided I would attempt to novelize what the Star Wars Prequels COULD HAVE BEEN, based on the ideas presented by Belated Media. The original video is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgICnbC2-_Y and while I do deviate a bit from some of the concepts presented (he goes on to do Episode 2 and 3 in later videos and makes a few tweaks that aren't mentioned in the first video) much of the ideas and concepts presented belong originally to him. Thank you to Belated Media for providing the idea, and thank you to the readers for taking the time to explore these concepts with me. Cheers,  
> -Katerinaki

Part 2:

The next morning saw Obi-Wan tired, but determined to do his duty and see these talks through successfully. The Jedi met with Padmé, Bail, and Captain Panaka, who was now in command of palace security.

“We thought it would be best to have Jedi stationed outside the conference room and around the perimeter grounds of the palace,” Panaka explained, pointing out the positions on a holo-map.

Obi-Wan nodded. “We have enough to station everyone in pairs. Have there been any threats?”

“Some,” Panaka admitted, “but we’ve thoroughly investigated each and have found them groundless. I fully expect everything will go smoothly.” He glanced at Padmé and Bail. “Well, security-wise at least.”

“Leave the politicians to us,” Padmé assured them.

“Gladly,” Anakin replied, grinning.

Panaka’s comm signaled.

“Panaka.”

“The Separatist delegation has arrived,” the voice crackled through the commlink.

“We’ll be right there.”

“Show time,” Padmé said. She adjusted her Senatorial robes and she and her brother swept out to meet the opposing party.

“We’ll take a perimeter patrol,” Obi-Wan said. “Master Unduli and Barriss will take the conference room. Master Vos and Aayla, interior perimeter.”

The Jedi teams nodded and separated.

“Shouldn’t we be in the conference room?” Anakin asked as they took up their patrol route of the perimeter grounds. “Padmé—“

“The mere fact that you refer to the Senator of Alderaan by her personal name illustrates why we should be stationed farthest from the conference room,” Obi-Wan replied.

Anakin didn’t understand, though.

“But she told me to,” Anakin protested.

“When?”

“On the palace tour, when I tried to call her ‘Senator Organa’ last night.” Anakin absently rubbed his shoulder where Padmé had punched him and grinned. She was intimidating and assertive, but Anakin liked how she spoke passionately about her home. And she was beautiful.

“Padmé showed Owen and I this whole room with a pool, just for swimming! Owen tried to take a drink.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t get sick,” Obi-Wan commented. He tried to keep his senses wide as they walked. He didn’t like the small, niggling feeling he had in the pit of his stomach since he’d woken this morning. Right now, it was hard to determine whether the feeling was a result of some unforeseen threat, or his own personal demons.

“I just can’t believe the size of everything! And they have anything you could imagine here. I wouldn’t mind staying forever, I think. I can’t imagine why Padmé would ever leave.”

“Anakin, perhaps we should just focus on the task at hand.”

Anakin looked around the quiet grounds with the sun shining on the manicured lawns.

“Everything looks fine, Master. And did you know that all these flowers are from all across Alderaan? Padmé says they’re meant to represent the noble houses.”

Obi-Wan tried to block out Anakin’s irritating chatter. He had a growing bad feeling about all of this.

 

 

Padmé stood with the other Senators as Bail led the Separatist delegation into the hall for the negotiations, as was his duty as a host. Immediatley, she spotted the leader of the Separatists, Count Dooku. The tail, white-haired man was one of the originators of the Separatist movement. At his right stood Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Padmé had to quash her growing anger at his presence, here in the palace he had almost destroyed years before. After his invasion of her homeworld, Padmé had been so sure Nute Gunray would’ve been charged with war crimes. But she’d underestimated how many friends the Neimoidian had in the Senate and the courts. He’d been required to pay damages and reparation to the people of Alderaan, but had remained head of the Trade Federation. And now he stood, bold as brass, trying to bring down the very democracy that had protected him. It was the Trade Federation’s influence that had brought so many other systems to the Separatist movement.

“Senator Organa,” Count Dooku greeted her, inclining his head in respect.

“Count Dooku, thank you for coming. It is our intentions that together, we might come to an understanding between our two differing ideologies.”

“A noble goal,” Dooku replied. “But I’m afraid it will be quite impossible. I request to speak to the Jedi alone.”

Meanwhile, in the private hangar of House Organa, a ship came to land in the palace. The palace traffic controllers had received no notification of a ship, nor had the ship declared its identification. In fact, the ship had said absolutely nothing over the comm and the controllers exchanged a wary glance as they once more tried to make contact with the unknown ship.

“Unknown craft, this is Aldera Palace Control. You are required to identify yourself immediately. This is a restricted hangar.”

Static came through the line.

“Try again.”

“Unknown craft, identify yourself immediately or you will be boarded.”

But still, there was only static.

“Alert Commander Panaka.”

Padmé was shocked by Dooku’s request, and by his complete lack of diplomatic tact. But she recovered as a seasoned Senator would.

“I think there has been a misunderstanding. The Jedi are not here to conduct the negotiations. They are only here to provide added protection, to supplement Alderaan’s guard.”

The delegate from the Techno Union broke ranks.

“Protection! What sort of protection would _you_ need? It’s _we_ who should have protection!”

“ _You_ need protection?” the Senator from Malastare spat. “We were attacked by _your_ ships on our way to this very meeting!”

“And there have been numerous assassinations attempts,” the Querian Senator added, his head bobbing agitatedly.

“That is impossible,” Nute Gunray declared. “There are no Separatist forces in the Core. And what of the Republic ships that attacked _us_? What of this new Republic Army?”

Only Count Dooku and Padmé remained collected as the conference hall dissolved into half a dozen shouting matches. Acusations would solve nothing, but more worrying were the reports of Republic ships attacking Separatists. The Jedi were the Republic’s primary fighting force. The army had yet to be built. The Jedi would not attack a diplomatic vessel. It went against their very Code.

Something more was at work and as Padmé met the eyes of Count Dooku, she knew he’d come to the same conclusion and seemed…afraid?

 

 

Out on the palace grounds, Anakin was still chattering on, but now Obi-Wan knew the feeling he had was not because of the nightmares, but because of some very real threat.

“Anakin, focus. Do you sense it?”

At Obi-Wan’s command, Anakin abruptly stopped talking and cast his senses out to the Force. His eyes widened just as a crackle came over the comm.

“…unknown…evacuate Sena—“

It was cut off as a huge explosion ripped through the palace. Obi-Wan saw the fiery column from the opposite side of the palace. Both Jedi had their lightsabers drawn and were racing towards the conference hall. The palace was chaos as guards hurried in every direction, trying to secure the palace. The two Jedi dodged the stream of traffic, arriving at the conference hall as a figure stumbled out, the blast doors closing behind it. Drawing on the Force, Obi-Wan sweeps the cloud of dust away, revealing the familiar figure of Count Dooku.

“Stop!” Obi-Wan declared, but Dooku took off and without thinking, Obi-Wan gave chase, leaving Anakin at the doors of the conference hall. He could feel the hurt and terror of those beyond, but with the heavy blast doors in place, there is little he can do.

“Anakin!”

He turned to see Owen skid around the corner, blaster fire hot on his heels. Owen dove behind a column as Anakin deflected the short back at the battle droids that had just marched around the corner.

“I found the intruders!” Owen called as he ducked around to take a few shots before diving back behind the pillar to avoid the returning fire.

Anakin was bout to respond when he felt something in the Force he hadn’t in ten years. Much more attuned to the Force, he was nearly brought to his knees by the sheer malevolence of the creature that stalked around the corner like a starving sand-panther. Anakin had heard Obi-Wan describe the Sith he’d fought before, but for the first time Anakin truly understood what Obi-Wan had meant, describing the sheer, crushing presence. He wished he hadn’t.

The Sith spotted Anakin and sneer at him. He ignited his dual-bladed red lightsaber and, to Anakin’s horror, began cutting his way through the wall, into the conference hall. Anakin could do nothing as he was preoccupied by the large battle droid force accompanying the Sith. It was all he could do to keep up as he cut down droid after droid and tried to deflect their fire from Owen.

It was Owen who made all the difference. He wasn’t the best shot, but somehow he seemed to find control panels or heads until the two of them had steadily destroyed them all. The Sith just broke through the wall as the last droid fell.

“Go get help,” Anakin told Owen. “This isn’t your fight.”

Owen took one look as the enraged Sith as he faced Anakin, spinning his saberstaff menacingly.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Owen agreed.

“You should save yourself too, while you still can,” the Sith hissed.

“I’m not going to let you hurt anyone,” Anakin declared.

“You’re too late for that, little Jedi!”

They lunged and Anakin stumbled as their blades clashed. The Sith was so fast, and he was a far better swordsman than Anakin. He knew it too, as he dodged Anakin’s desperate blows, thrown in between frantic parries.

“Is this the best the Jedi have to offer?” the Sith taunted. He didn’t even attack as Anakin lost his footing on the rubble. Anakin felt very much like the prey, trapped by the far superior predator. He’d not felt so helpless since his days as Watto’s slave.

“Where is your master, little apprentice?”

“I’m my own master,” Anakin retorted, feinting, but the Sith didn’t even flinch. He looked bored as they faced off again.

“You are _chained_ , just like all the Jedi. You have anger, but you will not use it and you can never gain _true_ power until you embrace your anger. You will never break your chains!”

With a lightning strike, the Sith knocked Anakin’s lightsaber aside and the second blade took off his hand. Anakin crumbled in pain and shock as he held the stump where his hand had been. He shook as the Sith stood over him, red lightsaber inches from Anakin’s throat where the scars from his obedience collar remained.

“I will set you free, slave,” he growled. He raised his blade to strike, but the strike was blocked by a blue blade as Obi-Wan stood over his fallen padawan.

“Kenobi,” the Sith purred with relish. “We meet again at last.”

“Yes, it will be the last,” Obi-Wan replied, knocking away the Sith’s blade. The two squared off, pacing a circle, testing the other. Anakin had never seen his master like this. He can see the fury in Obi-Wan’s face, can feel his hatred through their bond. Obi-Wan had never been farther from the calm, collected Jedi knight he was meant to be than he was now.

“You’ve failed again, Kenobi,” the Sith gloated, gesturing around him at the rubble and carnage. Senators and Separatists alike were scattered everywhere and Obi-Wan’s own padawan lay barely conscious and maimed.

“I _will_ kill you. I will have justice,” Obi-Wan promised.

“Justice? Or _vengeance_!”

They clashed, the two a whirlwind of red and blue light. It was said that Obi-Wan was one of the best lightsaber practitioners in the Temple. Now, as he faced his master’s murderer, he lived up to that title. The two flipped and spun, combining lightsaber strikes seamlessly with kicks and Force techniques. Through Anakin’s pain-filled haze, he barely registered that his teacher was more than holding his own against the Sith. Obi-Wan was winning! The Sith realized it too, and Obi-Wan saw just a brief moment of fear. He reveled in it and struck harder, driving him back. So consumed in the fight, he didn’t notice the Force’s warning until it was too late.

The wall to their side exploded and Obi-Wan was flung off his feet and away from the Sith by the blast. Soldiers in white plastoid armor stormed in through the hole they created, making quick work of the few battle droids that remained. In the confusion, Obi-Wan stumbled to his feet, looking desperately for the Sith. But he was gone.

“Perimeter secured,” one of the soldiers declared. Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber as the soldier looked pointedly his way. He hurried to where Anakin lay, just on the edge of consciousness. Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped as he saw the burnt stump of Anakin’s saber hand.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan called, trying to rouse his injured apprentice.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin slurred, blinking groggily. “I’m sorry. I tried to beat him.”

“Rest, Anakin,” Obi-Wan urged, adding a light Force suggestion. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Okay,” Anakin agreed sleepily. Obi-Wan stepped back and let the medics hoist Anakin onto a stretcher and take him away. The guilt he’d been feeling since they’d arrived on Alderaan returned tenfold. The Sith had been right. Obi-Wan had failed again. First his Master, and now his apprentice.

“Attention!” one of the soldiers ordered, and they all snapped to, freezing where they stood. Obi-Wan understood why when he saw Chancellor Palpatine enter, picking his way through the rubble. Padmé, limping and with a bloodied gash on her forehead, still managed to meet him.

“Chancellor, thank you for your help,” she said, though her voice was gruff and Obi-Wan could tell by her stiff posture she didn’t mean any of it.

The Chancellor looked around in a great show of sadness. “I had feared something such as this would happen. If I had not acted to mobilize the clone army quickly, I fear this would’ve been an even greater tragedy.”

“With respect, Chancellor,” Padmé replied, “I do not believe this attack was perpetrated by the Separatist party. Moment before, it was revealed that both parties had been ambushed en route. It’s possible there is another party at work here.”

A few of the bedraggled Senators echoed Padmé sentiments, but one of the clone generals stepped forward.

“Your Highness, we have solid intelligence that this attack was perpetrated by Count Dooku, who has escaped.”

“What intelligence?” Padmé demanded.

“It is clear that Dooku and the Sith Obi-Wan encountered ten years ago, and today, are in league,” Palpatine replied. “After all, Dooku was once a Jedi who turned away from the Order, was he not?”

All eyes turned on Obi-Wan who replied tersely. “He was. But he left the Order years ago. And merely leaving the Order does not make one a Sith lord.”

“He trained your own master and then left, never to be heard from until years later when he became the driving voice of the dissenting Separatist movement. And where is he now? He’s fled with his accomplice.”

It was true, Dooku had fled. Obi-Wan had given chase and followed him to a private hangar where a craft waited. It was only Obi-Wan’s quick thinking that enabled him to attach a homing device to the hull of Dooku’s ship. But, as one-by-one the Senators were swayed by Palpatine’s words, Obi-Wan decided to keep the knowledge of the tracking beacon to himself. Something did not feel right, and if any of what Palpatine said was true, then Dooku was the key.

 

 

Anakin awoke in a light, airy room, lying on a bed. He recognized some sort of med bay as nurses and healers bustled past him. His head ached, but the shock did not set in until he tried to sit up and nearly fell out of his bed. His arm was gone, Anakin realized. All that remained was half a stump with a cap just below the elbow. That he swore he could still feel his hand, even though he could clearly see it missing, only sent him into greater panic as his throat closed and he struggled to draw breath.

“Whoa, easy, Anakin.”

Padmé’s soothing voice helped as she appeared at his bedside, coaxing him to relax.

“Breathe, that’s it, good,” she said as Anakin took in a ragged breath.

“My arm is gone!” Anakin choked out through breaths.

“I know. The doctors tried to keep as much as they could, but there was a lot of damage from the blade.”

“I…can’t be a Jedi anymore.”

“Of course you can!” Padmé insisted. “You can use a prosthetic. There will probably be some re-learning, but the doctors don’t see any reason why you can’t make a full recovery.”

Her reassurances helped to soothe Anakin’s fears as he settled once more.

“Where is Obi-Wan?” he asked, surprised not to see his teacher.

“Master Yoda arrived with the clone forces and requested to speak with him. He left about an hour ago.”

“Oh,” Anakin replied. It hurt that his teacher and best friend was not there, but Anakin had to remind himself that he was obliged to seek Master Yoda.

“He asked that I look after you until he can return,” Padmé said quietly. “I think…he feels guilty, about your injury.”

“Guilty? But this wasn’t _his_ fault! I wasn’t strong enough.”

But Padmé shook her head. “Losing Qui-Gon changed Obi-Wan. I can’t imagine what he’s going through, being here again.”

Anakin couldn’t either, but at least he had some explanation for his teacher’s odd behavior. Obi-Wan had been quiet and withdrawn since they’d arrived.

“I should go find him,” Anakin declared.

“No, you should rest,” Padmé told him firmly. “Obi-Wan will return once he is finished and then maybe the two of us can talk some sense through his thick skull.”

“I doubt it,” Anakin replied. “Obi-Wan’s head can be thicker than a bantha’s backside.”

He suddenly seemed to realize what he’d just said to a Senator and Princess, but Padmé laughed and Anakin relaxed, joining her.

Deep in the bowels of the Royal Palace, Obi-Wan sat opposite the Jedi Order’s wisest master. Master Yoda was not much to look at, not even as tall as Obi-Wan’s waist. Every new initiate to the Jedi Order made the mistake of underestimating Master Yoda. But they soon realize their mistake, as Obi-Wan had, often with a few bumps to accompany the lesson.

When the dust had cleared and the victims of the Sith attack had been tended to, Master Yoda had requested Obi-Wan join him in the private room of the family’s wing. He’d been reluctant to leave Anakin still unconscious in the makeshift medical bay that had been arranged in the palace ballroom, but Padmé had been there and assured him she would look after Anakin and explain if he woke before Obi-Wan returned.

Upon arriving, Master Yoda had been deep in meditation. Obi-Wan sat and waited patiently, and as time passed, even tried to join him. But his mind would simply not focus. There was too much to think on, too many unanswered questions.

“Conflicted, you are, Master Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shifted a bit, not expecting Master Yoda to suddenly address him.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I request to go after the Sith and Count Dooku. I want to bring them to just—ow!” Obi-Wan rubbed his knee where Master Yoda had wacked him with his walking stick.

“Against the Jedi Code, it is, to lie!” Yoda scolded as if Obi-Wan was an initiate again, caught fighting with the other students.

“Denied, your request is. _Anger_ you feel. Vengeance you seek. Cloud your judgment, it does.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, feeling very much like that initiate again. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“When the Dark side we face, difficult it becomes to see the way. Careful you must be, Obi-Wan, or from the Path, you will wander.”

“But someone must go after Dooku, surely,” Obi-Wan insisted. “If what the Chancellor said was true…”

“Turned away from the Jedi Order, Dooku did, but not from the Path. A Sith, he is not.”

“But how can you be sure?”

Yoda did not answer, though, sighing and closing his eyes once more to return to meditation. But Obi-Wan wasn’t done yet He needed counsel. He needed to make sense of all the things he felt, the images he saw every time he closed his eyes, and how it all fit with the Sith attack. Obi-Wan was sure it did.

“I’ve been having visions, Master,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Since before this mission. I know I should’ve told the Council before, but there never seemed to be time.”

“Hm, tell me of this vision.”

“I’ve been seeing my master as the Sith kills him. I feel his loss, over and over again. This hasn’t happened in years. And, there’s a face, engulfed in flames.”

“Know this face, do you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Every time I think I recognize them, it changes. I know the Force is shifting, but surely there is _some_ reason for these visions?”

“The past you hold on to. Find Dooku, you will.”

Master Yoda’s sudden change of mind confused Obi-Wan.

“I don’t understand. The Sith—“

“Find _Dooku_ you must. The past you hold onto. Let go of it, you must, if move past this you will. Your master’s teacher, Dooku was. Help you, he can.”

“But what if Dooku is in league with the Sith?”

Yoda hung his head. “Then lost, we truly are.”

Obi-Wan’s mind was impossibly more restless as he returned to the medical bay. He’d thought a discussion with Master Yoda might’ve helped to clear his mind and provide guidance, but instead he felt even more conflicted and torn. And when he returned, Anakin was awake and laughing with Padmé sitting on the edge of his bed.

“And then, he fell right into the slime. It was stuck in his beard for almost three days!”

Obi-Wan groaned, his hand rubbing at his cheek as he remembered the putrid, blue slim from his and Anakin’s first mission together. It hadn’t been his most shining moment, as a Master _or_ a Jedi Knight. But he’d really wanted to prove himself capable as a Master to Anakin, capable of living up to Qui-Gon’s legacy. Anakin had helped him remove the goo, but in the end he’d had to shave off the beginnings of his beard and start over again. A fresh start for both of them.

“Must you tell that story _again_?” Obi-Wan huffed.

Anakin and Padmé shared amused grins at his expense.

“I was just telling Padmé of our first mission together.”

Obi-Wan folded his arms, cocking an eyebrow at his apprentice as he tried to look stern.

“And did you tell her about our _second_ mission together?”

Anakin’s cheeks turned bright red and he coughed uncomfortably, causing Padmé to turn and get him a cup of water. When Anakin had recovered, he relaxed back.

“Padmé, would you mind giving me a moment with my apprentice?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Of course,” Padmé replied, shooting Anakin a knowing smirk. “I’ll check on a few other patients. I’d _love_ to hear that story when I come back.”

Obi-Wan waited until Padmé was out of earshot before turning to his Padawan.

“How are you?”

“Alright,” Anakin admitted, “all things considered. What did Master Yoda say?”

“I’ve been tasked with going after Dooku.”

“What? When? I’m coming with you!” Anakin was already wrestling with his blanket, fumbling without his saber-hand. Obi-Wan came around the side of the bed to place a hand on his shoulder and guide him back down.

“You aren’t going anywhere with your injury,” Obi-Wan told him firmly.

“But I’m your apprentice!” Anakin protested. “Who’s going to look after you?”

Obi-Wan scowled. “I went on mission without you before you became my apprentice without issue. And you aren’t in any shape to leave this medical bay.”

“Padmé said I might be able to get a prosthetic,” Anakin mumbled, purposefully avoiding looking at his injury.

“Of course you will,” Obi-Wan assured him. “But it will take time and training for you to become comfortable again. And we don’t have time to wait. With everything that has happened, we need answers.”

“How are you going to find Dooku? He could be anywhere in the galaxy by now.”

“I was able to place a tracker on his ship before he got away. I’m hoping it will lead me to him.”

“And what will you do if you find him?”

That, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure about. Would Dooku even speak to him? What if both Dooku and the Sith were there, confirming the Chancellor and his generals’ suspicions? Could he face the two of them together?

Obi-Wan was about to respond when Padmé returned, toting a food tray.

“I have lunch for you,” she said, placing the tray on the table by Anakin’s bed.

“Don’t worry about me,” Obi-Wan told his apprentice instead. “Focus on healing. And Padmé, thank you for watching over him, but I’m afraid I will have to ask you to do so a little while longer.”

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, Padmé nearly tackled him in a hug. He didn’t react, stunned as he was, and by the time he had the presence of mind to respond, she was already pulling away.

“Please be careful,” she urged him. “Whatever it is they’re sending you off to do.” She caught his eye and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what he was seeing in her expression. But he nodded.

“I’ll be back quickly.”

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said.

“And with you also.”

He nodded and left. As he walked away from his apprentice and friend, an ominous feeling settled in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue:  
> There is unrest in the Galactic Republic. Thousands of systems have declared their desire to break from the Republic, forming a separatist movement.  
> The peace between the two opposing factions is fragile and the Jedi Knights find themselves as mediators, trying to prevent all-out war.  
> The Galactic Senate, fearing the strength of the Separatists, have commissioned an Army of the Republic to assist the overwhelmed Jedi…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 2012, the Youtube user, Belated Media, put up a video with the basic concept that he was a story producer when George Lucas was writing the Star Wars Prequels and that he reworked when George had in a way that was more streamline, maintained the integrity of the Original Trilogy, and left fewer plot holes. I saw this video a few years ago and loved the concept, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. What WOULD a Star Wars like that look like? Specifically? Since I'm not a director, I decided I would attempt to novelize what the Star Wars Prequels COULD HAVE BEEN, based on the ideas presented by Belated Media. The original video is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgICnbC2-_Y and while I do deviate a bit from some of the concepts presented (he goes on to do Episode 2 and 3 in later videos and makes a few tweaks that aren't mentioned in the first video) much of the ideas and concepts presented belong originally to him. Thank you to Belated Media for providing the idea, and thank you to the readers for taking the time to explore these concepts with me. Cheers,  
> -Katerinaki

Part 3:

There were countless star systems across the galaxy, each with numerous planets, moons, asteroids, space stations, not to mention just the sheer amount of _space_. It was so very easy to disappear and never be seen again. If it weren’t for his brief moment of forethought in the middle of the fray, Obi-Wan would not have had a chance of locating Dooku. It was days ago that the attack occurred. Dooku could be in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. But, as Obi-Wan brought his starfighter out of Alderaan’s gravitational pull and activated the homing device, he found Dooku was far closer than he’d expected. Dooku had fled to a system called Serenno in the Outer Rim. It was a Confederacy system, but Obi-Wan wasn’t going as a representative of the Republic. He was a Jedi Knight after a fugitive.

Serenno was a lush planet, not so different from Alderaan. Forests and mountains made up much of the terrain and made good cover as Obi-Wan approached the precise location of the tracking beacon, a cliff-side retreat bordered by prim, manicured gardens. Obi-Wan landed just beyond the ridge, using the forest as cover for his craft. This mission would need stealth. He wasn’t sure how welcoming Dooku would be if he just walked up and rang the doorbell. The only problem was that for the majority of his knighthood, he’d been serving on protection details and traveling across the galaxy trying to ensure it didn’t fracture into a million pieces. But the skills he’d learned all those years ago with Qui-Gon, when the most interesting mission they had was investigating pirate raiding, came back to him quickly. As he moved silently, his muscles remembering to flex and bend, he drew on the Force to warn him of the next approaching patrol or any traps along the way.

And before long, he came across the first battle droid patrol. Obi-Wan recognized the droids as the models preferred by the Trade Federation. He’d cut down enough of them years before. He hid in the shadows of the trimmed hedge, waiting for the droid patrol to pass him by. They were stupid, for the most part, only really good for scrap and didn’t really look around as they marched by him, otherwise Obi-Wan would’ve been spotted just down the side pathway.

He slipped further into the garden where, strangely, it seemed the plants became larger and more tangled. He was guided by the Force, trusting the feelings in the pit of his stomach to lead him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have.

Obi-Wan had barely a second of warning to duck before an enormous paw with gruesome claws swiped through the air where his head had been just moments ago. He rolled, diving for a bit of cover by the plants and activated his lightsaber. But there was nothing. Here in the gardens, the trees were grown over the path, creating a thick canopy. Everything was still as Obi-Wan scanned the trees, looking for the creature that had attacked him. There was no rustle, no breathing or flash of movement. But Obi-Wan knew, as he stood in the middle of the garden with his lightsaber casting a blue glow over everything, he was being hunted.

The two stood off, neither moving until the other. But besides having the advantage of size and ferocity, the creature also had the luxury of time, something Obi-Wan could not allow. Every moment he lingered increased his risk of Dooku sensing his presence. At last he could wait not longer and he steeled himself before making a lunge through the trees. He heard it in the trees suddenly take off after him. Obi-Wan could add speed to his disadvantages as he wove through the trees, trying to make it harder for the creature to keep up. Suddenly the canopy exploded and an enormous, cat-like creature landed right in his path. The creature screeched, swiping at him with a clawed paw and Obi-Wan ducked once more. He didn’t want to use his lightsaber on the creature, especially since it was only defending itself. But there was no time, and each swipe the cat came closer and closer to decapitating him. And then, Obi-Wan mistimed a swipe and the claws opened up three wide gashes across his shoulder.

He stumbled back, clutching his shoulder, his fingers quickly turning red with blood. There was little choice now. If he didn’t stop the bleeding, he would exsanguinate in minutes. The next swipe, Obi-Wan’s lightsaber flashed, cutting through the thick sinew and bone. The creature screeched, hobbling back on three paws. Obi-Wan thought it would be enough, but after a few licks, the creature turned on him again, snarling and hissing, it’s six eyes zeroed in on Obi-Wan. It’s two-pronged tail lashed back and forth and its remaining back legs tensed and Obi-Wan knew it was going to pounce, and there was only one option. As the creature bound forward and leapt, Obi-Wan stepped to meet it, bringing his lightsaber up and plunging it into the creature’s belly.

One last shriek heralded the end of the creature and Obi-Wan stumbled out from under its body. He struggled to his feet, fumbling in his utility pouches for the coagulant. He sprinkled it over his shoulder and followed it with some bacta patches. It was crude, but would hold for now. The creature lay dead, it’s six black eyes staring unblinkingly. Despite the fact that it had just been trying to kill him moments before, Obi-Wan felt sorrow for the creature’s death. It wasn’t meant to be here, an unwilling sentinel for a distant stronghold.

Pushing through the dense trees, eventually the way became clear once more and Obi-Wan found himself standing at the base of the stronghold, jagged spires piercing the orange-reddish sky. The two battle droids at the entrance were quickly scrapped and Obi-Wan slipped inside with little trouble.

He expected to find something beyond. Cleaning droids, staff, a palace such as this would take an army to upkeep. But the long corridors were empty and Obi-Wan had the distinct feeling he might’ve been the reason why. As he slipped from shadow to shadow, further into the Count’s stronghold without finding a single security measure or even a mouse droid, the fear that he was expected seemed almost certain. Obi-Wan paused, sinking into an alcove and drew on the Force, casting out his senses to feel for that one signature. Dooku, as a Force-sensitive, burned brighter than an average being of the galaxy. And in a place like this, devoid of other life, it was not difficult to locate his presence.

Every corridor the Force led him down brought him closer to Dooku’s presence. Obi-Wan knew he was expected, but he still was careful to mask stifle his own Force signature, just in case his own presence in the stronghold was still unknown. The Force eventually brought him to what seemed to be a small communications room. The door wasn’t even locked and without hesitation, Obi-Wan slipped inside, mashing the controls behind him, closing and locking the door and preventing Dooku from escaping again.

Dooku was waiting for him. He was most assuredly expected as Dooku sat across a flat comms table, his back straight and his dark eyes unsurprised. Really Obi-Wan had held little chance of fooling a master such as Dooku with decades of experience. Likely he’d sensed Obi-Wan the moment he’d landed on the planet.

“Master Kenobi,” Dooku said with a slight inclination of his head. “Your skills are impressive, but I taught that technique to your master.”

“You were his teacher,” Obi-Wan replied, forcing himself to remain calm, but on guard. If Dooku was truly in league with the Sith, he could turn from conversation to action without hesitation.

“Yes,” Dooku replied, sighing heavily. “I was devastated to hear of his death. And at the hands of a monster.”

“A monster you joined forces with!”

“No, you are wrong, Master Kenobi. I am not in league with the beast that attacked the peace summit. Like those who were injured, I am a victim.”

“You fled when the Sith attacked. You knew it was coming.”

“I suspected, which is why upon my arrival, I requested to speak to the Jedi. I have a story of my own to tell and I’d like to tell it before you arrest me for murder.”

Obi-Wan hesitated. The Sith were known for their cunning, their ability to sow chaos and discord. The Sith on Alderaan had nearly ensured civil war in his attack on the peace negotiations. Obi-Wan had to expose this third party and bring the conspirators to justice if they were going to avoid an all-out war.

“Qui-Gon would’ve listened to me,” Dooku said simply.

It burned Obi-Wan that a man who was once his master’s teacher, who conspired with his master’s killer, would dare evoke Qui-Gon’s memory. But he was right. Qui-Gon would have listened, whether out of respect or out of his own compassion, he would’ve listened.

“Speak quickly, then,” Obi-Wan snapped. He was conscious of his very precarious situation. For all he knew, an army of battle droids was about to storm in and kill him on Dooku’s order. He had no high ground in this situation.

“Many believe I left the Order out of self-interests,” Dooku said, his dark eyes never leaving Obi-Wan. “But I did not leave for myself. In my travels, I saw much suffering. The Republic was at peace, but the galaxy was still a difficult, dangerous place for many. The things I saw began to grow in my mind and I began to feel anger, the cloying call of the Dark Side. I tried to spur the Council to action, but they were hesitant and so, to remove the temptation, I began to feel, I left. I came here, determined to meditate and do what I can for the people of Serenno. The power of the Dark Side began to fade. And then I was contacted.

“He was always cloaked when he called me, but he praised my work, both on Serenno and before I’d left the Order. He called himself Sidious and he revealed himself as a Dark Lord of the Sith.”

Memories of the black and red tattoos and the rim of horns flashed through Obi-Wan’s mind. Surely this was the face of this Sidious.

“He said that he had great plans for the galaxy and that he wished for me to join him, to embrace the Dark Side and reshape the galaxy. He has infiltrated the Senate and even as we speak, moves to manipulate events in his favor. The assassinations are his machinations. He sends his beast, an apprentice called ‘Maul’ to kill and destroy, all according to his plans.

“I will not lie, the temptation of the Dark Side weighed heavily,” Dooku admitted with a sigh. “I thought, for a moment, that I could sway things, perhaps from inside Sidious’ trust. But I am not strong enough to withstand the Darkness. I refused him, and because of that, he sent his dog to silence me.”

The depth of Dooku’s words hung heavily over the ensuing silence. It was an unbelievable story. And yet the truth of his words ran through the Force.

“And so you went to the negotiations, but you refused to tell this to any of the Senators. Why? Why didn’t you reveal this Sidious immediately?”

“By the Force, Kenobi, have you not heard a word I said?” Until then, Dooku had been the perfect image of poised and controlled. But all at once his frustration and exasperation burst forth. He seemed to recognize this immediately and within moments the cool, collected exterior was back. He spoke in measured words, as if he was trying to explain a relatively simple concept to a simpleton.

“Sidious has power in the Senate. He made this very clear. It is impossible to know how deep his corruption has spread. I do not trust anyone in the Senate, but especially those present at the negotiations. These talks are too important for Sidious _not_ to send an agent. Even your friends the Organas are not above suspicion.. Only the Jedi are trustworthy, which is why upon my arrival I requested to speak with them. It was the Senators who refused.”

This was all too much, to extraordinary. And Obi-Wan couldn’t help but balk at the implication that even Bail and Padmé were part of this wild conspiracy. The Organas had been a force for peace for years, even before Obi-Wan had met them. He’d looked up their political history soon after the conflict on Alderaan. But, Dooku sat calmly across the table and he explained himself thoroughly, even if what he said seemed far-fetched. And yet, Obi-Wan was inclined to believe him. Dooku had all the reasons to lie. But Obi-Wan sensed he wasn’t. The implications of his story were far-reaching and terrible. And the decision to act on this information wasn’t Obi-Wan’s.

“I have to take you back to Coruscant,” he said at last. “If what you say is true, then the Jedi Council must know. But if it is false, they will decide your fate.”

“Master Kenobi, _you_ do not believe me. What assurances do I have that I will not be immediately imprisoned and put on trial for war crimes?”

“You have my _word_ ,” Obi-Wan replied firmly. “I will see to it you stand before the Jedi Council to tell your story. You trained Qui-Gon and I will honor his legacy.”

 

On Alderaan, everything was beginning to recover after the attack on the peace summit. Those who were injured had begun to recover, guarded by the white-armored Republic troopers. Padmé was not overly thrilled with the military presence on her homeworld, but support of their continued mission had been overwhelming by those Senators and Representatives that remained. There was little she or Bail could do about it. Especially considering the attack had been perpetrated _despite_ the security that had already been in place.

Anakin still lay in bed, but he’d been moved to a quieter part of the palace so that he could focus on healing. Padmé retrieved a tray of food from the kitchens and walked it up to him. Really, there were nurses and servants who could do this, and Padmé really should be helping Bail in his attempts to bring the Republic and the Separatists back to the negotiating table. With all the uncertainty over the attack, it was proving to be a near impossible task. But she felt useless there, like she was acting as a go-between for two squabbling schoolmates. At least with Anakin, she could feel useful.

The healers had given her full responsibility for changing Anakin’s dressings and going through the exercises he needed to do to become strong enough to support a prosthetic.

“Padmé! It’s great to see you!” Anakin’s eyes lit up as she slipped into his room. He lay propped up on the pillows, reading a holo-book. Padmé eyes immediately fell to the stump of his severed arm, wrapped in bacta bandages. Her heart ached, knowing that Anakin had received this wound trying to protect her and the other Senators. He was a hero. He didn’t deserve his hardship. Not after everything he’d gone through on Tattooine as well.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great! I went for a walk today. It was a little weird, but I’m getting the hang of it. Is that lunch? I’m starving.”

“Sure is!” Padmé replied, setting the tray on the table. She’d brought enough to share, as they’d been doing since Anakin had been moved. Anakin slipped out of bed, a bit unsteady, but eventually he found his balance and joined Padmé as she set out utensils and plates and extra napkins. Anakin was a bit clumsy as he ate with his non-dominant hand.

“Oops,” Anakin muttered as he dribbled some soup onto the table. He set his spoon back down and quickly mopped it up with a napkin. Padmé pretended she didn’t notice.

“Have you heard from Obi-Wan?” she asked. He’d left a few days ago on some sort of mission and hadn’t been seen or heard from since. And Padmé couldn’t help but feel worried, even though she knew Obi-Wan had done plenty of missions before they’d met, and in the ensuing years they’d known each other.

“No,” Anakin replied and Padmé could see he was just as disappointed as she was. He’d refused to tell her _why_ Obi-Wan had left, only that it was “important Jedi business”.

“I have good news,” Padmé said after they’d nearly finished their lunch. “I spoke with the healers yesterday. They think you are well enough to be fitted for a prosthetic. They will be here later this afternoon.”

Anakin had been generally optimistic about his injury, but Padmé knew it frustrated him that he sat in bed while Obi-Wan was out on a mission. And recently he’d become restless to get out and begin training again so that he might join his teacher in the field as soon as possible. Padmé had even caught him one night trying to perform lightsaber forms with his remaining hand, nearly lopping that off too in the process! She’d made him swear to wait and follow the healer’s instructions.

But now he had the substantial hope of at last returning to his Jedi training.

“This afternoon? Can they come any sooner? I can be ready now!”

“Bail and I have arranged for the best. They are preparing the prosthetic and will come to fit it before supper tonight.”

After that, Anakin’s enthusiasm could not be contained. By the time the healers and technicians came to fit the prosthetic, he could barely sit still long enough for them to slide the gold alloy limb onto his remaining arm and make the necessary nervous connections to give him full function. When the tedious process was at last complete, Anakin was left with a mechanical hand and forearm, the mechanisms firing smoothly as he flexed his new fingers.

“Force, this is strange,” he said as he wiggled each finger and rubbed them together.

“You will not be able to feel very fine textures,” the technician explained. “No fine surfaces. Expect some fatigue in the shoulder and bicep. I recommend you ease yourself back into everyday actions until you adapt. Wear a sling if it starts to become sore.”

“This is so wizard!” Anakin laughed, completely ignoring the technician as he tried to pick up everything in reach.

“Thank you for your assistance,” Padmé told him as Anakin picked up his lightsaber and ignited the blade.

“Comm if there are any problems. Good day, Your Highness.” And the technician and healers beat a hasty retreat as Anakin began waving his lightsaber about, moving through a series of basic strikes.

“Anakin, perhaps we should move to a training hall, or a hangar bay?” Padmé suggested, cringing as he almost took out a nearby table.

Anakin recognized the slight edge in her voice and looked around at the cramped space. “Oh yeah, that might be best,” he agreed, deactivating his lightsaber and effortlessly placing it on his belt. He grinned at the remembered movement. The two of them left the quiet wing, heading for the guards’ practice area. It was much more crowded than usual as white-armored troopers milled about, training in everything from riflery to hand-to-hand combat. Their commanders were designated by a bit of yellow or red paint on their shoulders and helmets. It was the first Anakin was really seeing of the “Grand Army of the Republic” and he hesitated at the entrance of the training space, suddenly self-conscious.

“Anakin, my boy!”

He and Padmé turned and Anakin immediately straightened up when he saw Chancellor Palpatine making his way towards them, flanked by a yellow and red-painted commander and lieutenant.

“Chancellor,” Anakin replied with a respectful bow.

“Good to see you recovered,” Palpatine said. “When I heard of what happened, I was devastated. But rest assured, I will see to it you receive your much-deserved commendation upon return to Coruscant.”

“Th—thank you, Chancellor,” Anakin stuttered. He’d never been comfortable talking to Chancellor Palpatine as Obi-Wan was. Something about the man unsettled him.

“And of course, there is more splendid news,” Palpatine continued. “Our searching has paid off.”

Palpatine gestured to someone across the training field, and both Anakin and Padmé were shocked when a Mandalorian bounty hunter emerged in battered gray and green armor.

“Chancellor, a bounty hunter?” Padmé murmured while the Mandalorian was still out of earshot.

“This is Fett,” Palpatine explained. “He graciously answered our call for information about the fugitive Count Dooku. Show them what you showed me.”

Fett produced a holo-recorder and a small image of a cliff-side fortress appeared.

“This is Dooku’s fortress on Serenno.” He punched another button and the image shifted to the unmistakable figure of Dooku, flanked by two battle droids out on the grounds. “I confirmed that Dooku had surrounded himself with well over three hundred battle droids and has enough resources to hold up there for decades.”

“We may not have another opportunity such as this,” Palpatine said. “Dooku could be making plans to disappear this very moment. I have ordered Commander Cody to take his troops and capture Dooku, but above all else, ensure Dooku does not escape.”

“Chancellor, I must protest!” Padmé said immediately. “Not only has Dooku not been convicted of orchestrating the attack by the Senate or any judicial body, but this attack on Serenno could very well spark an already fraught situation. My brother Bail fights night and day to keep the peace negotiations open. A heavy-handed action such as this could very well be seen as an act of war!”

“Senator Organa, I have of course weighed the consequences but I believe allowing Dooku to remain would be a greater risk to the continued safety of the Republic. His capture is essential to ending this conflict before it had begun. Without their leader, the Separatists will fall apart and their systems will return to the Republic.”

Padmé’s eyes blazed. “With all due _respect_ , Chancellor, it is the role of the _Senate_ to determine where and when the Army of the Republic will be deployed. This is an act of _war_.”

“You may not be aware, busy as you have been with other tasks,” Palpatine glanced at Anakin,” but the Senate voted last night to award me emergency powers just for the duration of this crisis. Once it is over and the Republic is no longer in danger, I will of course relinquish these powers gladly. But until then, I have to make decisions in the interest of the safety and security of the Republic. And Count Dooku is a grave threat to the Republic and its people.”

Palpatine turned to the yellow-painted commander at his side.

“Commander Cody, prepare your troops. You leave this evening.”

“Let’s go,” Padmé said, storming off with Anakin on her heels. “Chancellor Palpatine cannot make such a unilateral declaration of war. The Senate must stop this before we descend into civil war.”

“Padmé,” Anakin called, reaching out to grab her wrist. She jumped at the cold metal palm against her skin.

“Sorry,” Anakin murmured. “The army is going after Dooku. We need to—“

“Stop them! And the only way to do that is to—“

“No, you don’t understand! It’s Obi-Wan. _Obi-Wan_ went after Dooku. He’d placed a tracking device on his ship.”

Padmé’s mind was quick and it took barely a second to realize what Anakin was desperately trying to explain.

“Obi-Wan is on Serenno. He doesn’t know the army is about to attack!” Suddenly she grasped Anakin’s new arm, unflinching this time.

“Come on! We need to get there first to warn him.”

She began leading him down to the hangar, but there was one flaw in her plan.

“Padmé, I’m not sure I can fly with this thing yet,” Anakin said as they hurried to the makeshift hangar that had been set up until the main hangar was cleared of debris and repaired. Over thirty gunships sat in precise rows on the far side of the large plaza, opposite starfighters and the few salvageable civilian ships that had been in the hangar before.

Padmé stopped short and only Anakin’s Jedi reflexes avoided a collision.

“I can’t fly a ship. What are we going to do?”

Like a sign in the Force, a familiar face emerged from one of the nearby civilian ships, cursing up a storm.

“ _Fierfek_! What son of a bantha _koochoo_ would install a—“ Owen froze when he spotted them standing just at the bottom of the ramp.

“Oh! Sorry, Anakin, Your Highness, um hi! Wow, I heard you were injured but—“

He stopped short when he spotted the metal hand that was visible just at the end of Anakin’s sleeve.

“Guess they were right. But it’s great to see you! I could really use your help with the repairs. The mechanics around here are total herd of _stoopa_ and if I don’t get this baby up and running by the time the Senators are ready to leave, I’m gonna be—“

“Owen, we need your help,” Anakin cut him off. “We need you to fly us to Serenno on…official Jedi business.”

Owen looked between the two of them suspiciously, but it was clear the prospect of flying on “Jedi business” would be enough for the pilot.

“Good, I’ve been dying to get off this planet.” Then he seemed to remember who Padmé was. “Not that it’s not a great place. Beautiful palace, stunning uh…mountains…”

“What ship are we taking?” Padmé interrupted.

“Not that one,” Owen replied, gesturing over his shoulder. “But, I had the _Sidewinder_ fueled up this afternoon.” He pointed out a modest cargo ship across the plaza which looked mostly unguarded and highly uninteresting.

“That will work,” Anakin replied.

They hurried aboard and despite his reservations, Anakin took the co-pilot seat and seemed to be doing well enough. Owen managed to refrain from gushing over the opportunity to fly with _The Anakin_ , although he glanced over far too many times than was necessary as they prepped the ship. It wasn’t until the engines thrummed to life that the hangar controllers seemed to realize there was an unscheduled departure.

“ _Sidewinder_ , you are not cleared for departure. Power down immediately,” the hangar commander ordered.

“I am so losing my license,” Owen groaned, but he continued pre-flight checks.

Padmé flicked the comm open. “This is Senator Padmé Organa, requesting _immediate_ clearance on urgent business.”

There was a pause on the other end when nobody in the _Sidewinder’s_ cockpit dared move before the voice crackled through again, far less hostile.

“Apologies, Senator. You are cleared for immediate departure, frequency 4-2-niner.”

“Thank you, Wash,” Padmé replied primly.

“Man, I should become a Senator,” Owen muttered as they took off, all traffic halted for their departure.

“It’s harder than it looks,” Padmé replied, settling back into her seat.

“Where to?” Owen asked.

“Serenno,” Anakin said.

“But that’s Separatist space. You sure?” He glanced between Anakin and Padmé.

“Positive,” Anakin replied.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Owen entered the coordinates and a moment later, they jumped into hyperspace.

 

On Serenno, Obi-Wan was getting a bad feeling. It wasn’t about Dooku, but some sort of looming threat, distant but imminent. Dooku was making preparations to leave. Having sent all the human servants away the moment he received the threat from Sidious, there was little left to do to ensure the estate would be maintained in his absence. Program the droid crew and leaving contingency instructions for the local council.

“We should leave soon,” Obi-Wan said.

“We will leave as soon as I have finished,” Dooku replied primly as he typed out his instructions on a datapad. “It will likely be a long time before I return, if I return at all.”

“You have my word,” Obi-Wan reminded him.

“But not anyone else’s.”

An alarm went off on Dooku’s commlink and warbled droid-speak crackled over the frequency. Obi-Wan didn’t understand it, but Dooku surely did.

“Another ship is approaching. Republic. Who else knows you are here?”

“My Padawan,” Obi-Wan replied. “He was injured in the attack. By Maul.”

Dooku’s eyes closed and Obi-Wan could feel the Force gather around them. It was impressive and at the same time intoxicating how strong and masterful Dooku’s command of the Force was.

“He followed you here.”

“What?” Obi-Wan reached out himself, unbelieving. But there was the familiar signature, along with two others. One was likely Padmé; it was familiar, but not Force-sensitive.

“If he’s come, it’s for a good reason,” Obi-Wan insisted.

Dooku hummed, but he signaled his droid. “Allow them to land on the outskirts of the grounds. Do no approach.” He tucked his commlink away and reached for a fine, brown cape, securing it over his shoulders.

“Come, Master Kenobi. Let’s see what has raised your Padawan from his sickbed.”

 

Owen landed them just over a rise from Dooku’s fortress-palace. They hadn’t been challenged upon their descent. Padmé and Anakin prepared to leave. Anakin touched his new metal hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. It felt strange, but perhaps if it came down to it, instinct and training would win out.

“Owen, keep the ship ready,” Anakin said. “We may need to leave in a hurry. And contact me if you see any other ships.”

“Copy that,” Owen replied with a salute. Padmé rolled her eyes behind his back as she strapped a small blaster pistol to her hip. They emerged onto the rocky plateau, eyes scanning for any of the “well over three hundred” droids Dooku was meant to have. But everything was quiet.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Anakin muttered, his hand itching for his lightsaber, even though he really wasn’t sure he wouldn’t take the other hand _off_ with it.

They trekked over the ridge and quickly came upon the edge of the manicured grounds. There still wasn’t a droid in sight, but the hairs on the back of Anakin’s neck were on end and Obi-Wan’s words of “trust your instincts” kept playing over and over in his mind.

“Where is everyone?” Anakin muttered.

“Well I must say, his infiltration skills could use more work.”

Anakin spun, lightsaber out and ignited at the deep, caustic comment. Dooku stood at the end of the blue blade, but to Anakin’s surprise, Obi-Wan emerged from the end of the row of plants.

“Reflexes are decent,” Dooku commented.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Anakin, why are you here? And you brought Padmé? Into danger?”

“It was her idea,” Anakin replied. “We came to warn you. But…I don’t understand. Why are you and Dooku…”

“It’s complicated,” Obi-Wan sighed. “But Count Dooku has confirmed your suspicions, Senator. There is a third party in play.”

“Would you _please_ lower your lightsaber?” Dooku said.

Anakin looked to Obi-Wan, who nodded, before deactivating the saber. He did keep the hilt in his palm, however.

“There isn’t any time to explain now,” Padmé said. “The Chancellor knows Dooku is here. He’s sending the Army of the Republic—“

“To kill me,” Dooku finished grimly.

“To capture you,” Padmé insisted. But nobody among them believed her words, not even herself.

“Then it is worse than I’d feared. Master Kenobi, I must apologize, but I will not be able to accompany you to Coruscant.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked.

“There is still time,” Obi-Wan insisted. “If we leave now—“

“I will be a fugitive. If I stay, my death will be a rallying cry.”

“For _war_!” Padmé spat.

“War is already here, Senator Organa. Your efforts to prevent it, while admirable, were always futile. Greater powers were always against you; it was impossible for you to succeed. My only hope is that my death will be enough to bring a swift and decisive end to this conflict.”

He reached into his cape and, to Obi-Wan and Anakin’s surprise, removed a lightsaber hilt. Anakin tensed for a fight, but Dooku did not activate it. Rather he held it out to Obi-Wan.

“I regret we were not able to meet earlier, under different circumstances. You do your master proud, Obi-Wan. Take this and return it to the Council. Make sure they are informed of everything, but take caution who else you tell.”

Obi-Wan seemed about to protest, but in that moment, Anakin’s commlink crackled.

“Uh, guys. There’s a bunch of Republic gunships, heading your way!”

Ships dropped out of the clouds, roaring overhead. The Republic Army had arrived. Their time was up.

Obi-Wan took the hilt and tucked it in the folds of his tunic. Anakin and Padmé were already making for the ridge and the _Sidewinder_.

“May the Force be with you,” Obi-Wan said.

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan,” Dooku replied. He turned, his cape flaring out behind him as he returned to his fortress. Overhead, the Republic ships were forming up. Obi-Wan hurried after Padmé and his apprentice. He paused at the end of the ramp as the first of the gunships assaulted the fortress, explosions ripping through the plateau.

“Obi-Wan, come on!” Anakin called from the top of the ramp. Obi-Wan hurried inside and they were in the air before the second bombing run. Owen’s skillful maneuvering kept them away from the gunships’ scanners until they were well away. Below, Dooku’s fortress crumbled under the fiery assault as the four of them watched the carnage.

“There is no death, there is the Force,” Obi-Wan murmured, a prayer to the Universe.

They cleared Serenno’s atmosphere and Owen punched in Alderaan’s coordinates. The cockpit was quiet and somber. Anakin sat with Padmé, an arm around her shoulders in comfort. They were silent, until Padmé suddenly looked up at Obi-Wan.

“What did Dooku mean, ‘greater powers were always against you’?”

“Dooku was not allied with the Sith,” Obi-Wan said. “He was the target. Disrupting the peace-talks was meant to be a side effect, but not the primary goal of the attack.”

“But why would _Dooku_ be the target?”

Obi-Wan hesitated, shifting and feeling the foreign lightsaber hilt press against his stomach. He’d made a promise that he would share Dooku’s true story, but only with the Jedi Council.”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“And thanks to Palpatine’s heavy-handed tactics, we will _never_ know,” Padmé spat. “Does nobody in this galaxy want _peace_? Is war the only option?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replied serenely as he looked out the cockpit at the swirling blue lights of hyperspace. “There is hope. While people like you and the Jedi persist, peace will come. There is always Light, so long as some are willing to fight for it.”


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is unrest in the Galactic Republic. Thousands of systems have declared their desire to break from the Republic, forming a separatist movement.  
> The peace between the two opposing factions is fragile and the Jedi Knights find themselves as mediators, trying to prevent all-out war.  
> The Galactic Senate, fearing the strength of the Separatists, have commissioned an Army of the Republic to assist the overwhelmed Jedi…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 2012, the Youtube user, Belated Media, put up a video with the basic concept that he was a story producer when George Lucas was writing the Star Wars Prequels and that he reworked when George had in a way that was more streamline, maintained the integrity of the Original Trilogy, and left fewer plot holes. I saw this video a few years ago and loved the concept, but I just couldn't get it out of my head. What WOULD a Star Wars like that look like? Specifically? Since I'm not a director, I decided I would attempt to novelize what the Star Wars Prequels COULD HAVE BEEN, based on the ideas presented by Belated Media. The original video is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VgICnbC2-_Y and while I do deviate a bit from some of the concepts presented (he goes on to do Episode 2 and 3 in later videos and makes a few tweaks that aren't mentioned in the first video) much of the ideas and concepts presented belong originally to him. Thank you to Belated Media for providing the idea, and thank you to the readers for taking the time to explore these concepts with me. Cheers,  
> -Katerinaki

Epilogue:

“Count Dooku is dead,” Sidious told his kneeling apprentice.

“I am sorry I failed you, Master,” Maul rasped. His shoulders were tensed and his body swayed with pain and fatigue as blood oozed sluggishly from his wounds. Gashes slit open the jagged black tattoos that covered his body, criss-crossing his shoulders, back, and arms. The Dark Side of the Force was strong here, fed by Sidious’s rage and Maul’s suffering.

“The war has begun, no thanks to _you_ ,” Sidious growled. “Do not fail me again, Maul, or I will find an apprentice stronger and more worthy of my teachings.”

Sidious left as Maul’s arms gave out and he collapsed on the cold, durasteel floor.

“Yes, Master…”


End file.
